Chapter 49
by RecordingTheCrash
Summary: When evil does evil, the world continues to turn as expected. It's only when sheep start leading their own to the slaughter that it screeches to a complete halt. Faced with just what humans can do, it's hard not to feel betrayed. [Lavi x Lenalee, Kanda x Lenalee]
1. Prologue

**Chapter 49  
** _RecordingTheCrash & Livxwire  
_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own; don't sue. Blah, blah, _blah_. You get the gist.

 **Summary:** When evil does evil, the world continues to turn as expected. It's only when sheep start leading their own to the slaughter that it screeches to a complete halt. Faced with just what humans can do, it's hard not to feel betrayed. [Lavi x Lenalee, Kanda x Lenalee]

 **Note:** This is a chaptered story that primarily focuses on Lavi, Lenalee, and Kanda coming to terms with the world and each other. The tale is told from varying perspectives and will include mystery, action, drama, humor, and, yes, even romance. There will be backtracking involved, as different characters give their own thoughts on transpiring events, so if that seems tedious to you, then feel free to sit this one out. If you don't enjoy dark themes, this might not be the story for you either. Otherwise, expect updates every one to three weeks, sometimes sooner, and, please, enjoy!

 **Contact Information:** Check out **Livxwire** , my totally awesome co-author, on Tumblr! You can find me there as well at **RecordingTheCrash** (my D. Gray-Man blog) and **PilotingDaCrash** (my personal blog).

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

It was the start of another chapter, the forty-ninth chapter, to be exact, and as the page turned to finalize the segment of one story, fresh ink was scrawled upon untainted paper to begin the journey of another. The young Bookman had been through this before, erasing his past cover and replacing it with another, the endeavor now routine, making the boy almost forget who he really was. _Almost_. It had all become a game to the redhead, a twisted game of charades that he played while he mingled with the players to write his story. Appear friendly and amiable, with just an ounce of charm, but never influence and never become involved. These beings around him were not friends, they were not toys, merely tools to tell the tale, nothing more, nothing less. Bookman Junior was content with that. At first, when he was young, the idea of knowing secrets that others did not was enough to keep his mind distracted from the desire for human companionship, but as time went on, as the scribe dictated war after war, atrocity after atrocity, and after watching humans shed so much blood for ideals they no longer remembered, the boy no longer cared to associate himself with the heathens. There was nothing of value left within the human world, and if being a Bookman taught him one thing, it was that history repeated itself, and that history was drenched in blood. He wanted no part of it; however, that did not mean the redhead wouldn't take a twisted form of pleasure from recording it.

As the two sat there on the couch, the mentor and the apprentice, Bookman gave a warning to his pupil, an attempt to keep his brash student from getting in over his head. This war would be different, the old panda said. They would be writing as soldiers, as contestants in the war, the old man advised, but no matter what side they fought for, they were still to remain neutral. It was to be the first true challenge his junior would face, to be so involved but yet remain true to his actual duty, to be able to remain unattached and impartial as they paddled through the waves of crashing turmoil, to not be sucked into the whirlpool of emotion.

The redhead was confident and cocky, smirking at the old panda as his wrinkled face hung heavy with worry.

"I'll be as friendly and sociable as always," the youth smoothly smiled, his expression filled with the devil's mischief.

Gramps didn't believe his student. Not one bit. Headstrong and naïve, despite all the boy had come to see so far, Bookman knew that his disciple was not ready for the challenges that lay ahead, for even though the boy held a distinct bitterness towards the world, there was still a lot of temptation it had yet to offer. It might have been easy to remain neutral from the sidelines, but from the center, it was hard for the lines to remain clear and not blurred.

But that was all the pep talk the teacher was able to provide before the start of their new story, of their forty-ninth tale together, before the opening of the Chapter of Lavi.

* * *

Their waiting was over. Finally, Bookman and the newly-named Lavi were introduced to the director of the Science Department. He was a tall, Asian man with a playful smile, yet deadly serious eyes. A childish charm floated about the one called Komui Lee, but, for those who also held deep secrets, it was easy to see the cold chill behind his falsely bright eyes. The redhead smirked at the interesting specimen that stood before him, holding his bright blue coffee cup as he leaned back on the desk, kicking away the loose papers that cluttered the floor, as he went over the details of the arrangement with the senior scribe. Bookman Junior was only paying half attention, his eyes darting about the room and soaking up as much information as he could gather, learning more than any normal person would about the director. It was the little things that gave away the honest truth about a person, the things one never expected, like that blue coffee mug Komui grasped tightly in his hands. The man, with his dramatic movements and clumsy habits, gingerly held the cup, cradling the possession as if it were a piece of delicate china. He used it every day too, Lavi could tell by the softly worn and rounded edges along with the warmly faded color around the mouth of the mug. To the record keeper, this let him know that this oddly decorated beverage holder was a gift from someone special and, guessing by the bright pink bunny, it wasn't a lover or a significant other. That left a sibling, mostly likely a sister, and by how the man treasured the item, how he held it protectively, he probably assumed some sort of parental role with her.

Needless to say, Lavi was chosen to be the successor of the Bookman line for a reason.

Eventually, the scholars were led out of the cluttered office, taken on a tour of the facility, Komui rambling about his makeshift home and those he shared it with. There was a sense of care and compassion as the director spoke, an underlying message of family and comradery for those who chose to make the Black Order their home. Lavi wanted to gag, but instead, he answered with a smile, his eye alive with a false sense of excitement.

How long were they going to be working on this chapter again?

It took a lot of effort for the younger Bookman to bite back his annoyed sigh, looking over his shoulder to catch sight of the sea of coffins below the platform they stood on.

 _A funeral, huh?_

The redhead was suddenly interested, turning to face the lobby, curiously gazing upon the ceremony that was taking place. Death was nothing new to the scribe of war. He had seen so much of it that the sight no longer had an effect on him. All death was to Lavi was an inevitability and the only certainty in life. The sounds of falling tears and hollow sobs were just background noise to him now; it had become more and more uncomfortable for the Bookman to display a reaction of forced compassion over time. Thankfully, from his current vantage point, Lavi could observe without hesitation, without concern of blending into an emotionally-surged crowd. With a blank stare, the youth cocked his head to the side, intrigued about the different set of mourning rituals the Black Order seemed to hold within its own walls. The redhead committed it all to memory, no detail overlooked, so that he could write it down later; however, his observations were cut short. A spark of electricity crackled to his left, pulling his attention into the crowd, his eye locking with a girl kneeling beside one of the coffins. Long, black pigtails framed her pale face, her cheeks wet with tears, but despite the despair surrounding her, the girl's eyes held a sense of hope, an undying light that still burned bright despite the river of sorrow that so openly flowed from them.

Lavi suddenly, if only for a moment, found it hard to breathe, as if the air had been knocked out of him. For some reason, his heart pounded heavy in his chest for a beat or two, which the boy pushed off as a random irregularity, nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, Bookman Junior found himself unable to move, as if he was stuck in place. That was peculiar, and just as the young scribe began to grow concerned, his attention drawn away from the captivating young woman, she left, darting out of the lobby like a ghost, the boy not even aware she had fled before he was pulled into the next room.

Due to their late arrival, the two Bookmen were allowed to retire to their new rooms after the tour, instructed to meet back up with the director in the morning for their Innocence selection and uniform fitting. The old panda attempted to close the evening with some words of warning-filled wisdom, which his pupil brushed off like the brash and arrogant young male that he was.

"Yeah, whatever, Gramps. I got it covered," the redhead waved off as he walked into his room, closing the door behind him and completely missing his mentor's instructions to wait for him in the morning before heading down to the mess hall.

* * *

Expanding her world was a painful and clumsy process, but she couldn't complain because putting any more strain on her point of fixation, the center of her, admittedly, small universe, her _brother_ , wasn't an option. Of course, the guilt and concern over hindering him and the residual bitterness left clinging to her bones against the Black Order got in the way of her desperate attempts to care for something farther down her line of sight, which didn't naturally extend past the glare of Komui's glasses and the ridiculousness of his pale blue mug. She remembered doodling an absurdly pink bunny over the periwinkle ceramic back in the day to get his attention. Now that she had what she asked for, however, the brunette found herself struggling under the intensity of the weight. So after failing time and again to let something other than whiplash mood swings, played up for her amusement and benefit, no doubt, get under her skin, she valiantly gave the endeavor another shot. And _another_. She had plenty of opportunities to try, after all, caught in a neverending stream of unfamiliar faces in familiar uniforms. And it wasn't until she pinned the French accent of the finder accompanying her on an assignment to Italy and marked Rosh Hashanah on her calendar because the line cook helping Jerry would smile if she remembered to wish him good health in the new year that something creaked, and scratched, and wailed, but _moved_.

Her mentality stretched and bent to accommodate the influx of information that followed: the oriental cuisine she hadn't ever thought to taste, the austere customs of British society outlined in classical literature that one of the exorcists she barely knew sheepishly admitted to her were still very prevalent in his culture, the seven languages in which she learned to pronounce a passable greeting, Reever's excited, little squeaks of triumph at finding the species of bird indigenous to the region he had always hoped to study, and the warmth that came with knowing how each and every man in the Science Department took his coffee. Before she realized it, the map on her dorm room wall was full of pins with names and faces attached to destinations she never visited but had heard so much about, and it struck her suddenly, with blinding clarity, as if written out in bold letters between the red, plastic heads, that she wasn't the only one who was homesick, _still_ homesick, so many years past. Nostalgia is truly an infectious disease, and, maybe, in a way, that's good. Because they all had something in common, and she found that if she only listened, everyone was willing to talk.

Lee had no more choice in the Black Order members than others did in parents, she knew, and it took some time to put her thoughts into a coherent sentiment, but, in the end, she decided, that was fine. Because family can't really be chosen.

Unfortunately, many other, much less pleasant, things aren't meant to be chosen either. The convenience of picking a death date, for instance, is beyond humanity, and Lenalee learned that the hard way when over two hundred coffins filled the echoing void of the first basement floor.

Her world suddenly shrunk, and she found herself thinking that, maybe, expansion is a lot less painful than constriction.

But then, just as her knees buckled under the weight of the shock and her still fresh injuries, just as her vision blurred and the ends of her hair tangled and curled into her cheeks, just as icy dread began enclosing her heart in a thick film of apathy, something searing and insistent surged up her spine, drawing her attention up and _up_ , where she searched out an unfamiliar, acid-green gaze, a little widened, a little unsteady, but definitely there.

And so, the oscillation continued, past her point of origin, through her brother's hands.

* * *

 **To be continued.**


	2. Of Unhappy Introductions

**Chapter 49  
** _RecordingTheCrash & Livxwire  
_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own; don't sue. Blah, blah, _blah_. You get the gist.

 **Summary:** When evil does evil, the world continues to turn as expected. It's only when sheep start leading their own to the slaughter that it screeches to a complete halt. Faced with just what humans can do, it's hard not to feel betrayed. [Lavi x Lenalee, Kanda x Lenalee]

 **Note:** Whew! Got this monster edited earlier than anticipated, which, I'm going to take a stab and say, is a _good_ thing. We're still revving up to the plot a bit, so keep that in mind, yeah? Please let us know what you think, and, of course, enjoy.

* * *

 **Of Unhappy Introductions  
**

* * *

It was the rumbling of his stomach that woke the redhead in the morning, prompting him to rub the sleep from his eye while lazily stretching his still waking muscles. Half asleep, a yawn escaping from his lips, the Bookman haphazardly threw on his bandana and a loose-fitting thermal shirt, forgetting his shoes as he waddled his barely coherent form towards the mess hall, his nose leading the way for his visual receptors were still not all that functional. The boy wasn't even sure how he managed to get food on his plate, let alone aware what he actually selected. It looked delicious, and smelled that way too, which was good enough for the professional nomad. Hell, the fact that it was hot was good enough for him.

Too distracted by the home cooked meal, Lavi plunked his butt down at the nearest open seat, shaking the entire table in front of him with his lack of coordination. The noise of the slamming tray echoed about the room, calling the entire area's attention to him in one of those awkward moments that the junior Bookman hated yet seemed to follow him wherever he went.

And so, the play began.

Chuckling nervously, closing his eye in a false sense of modesty, Lavi raised a hand to ruffle his already bed messed hair.

"Umm … hi," the seemingly cheerful redhead voiced, extending a hand to the person sitting to the right of him. "I'm Lavi."

* * *

Food wasn't exactly high on her list of priorities the next morning when saliva tasted like nothing short of ash in her mouth, but if she didn't make it down to the mess hall sooner rather than later, her brother would doubtlessly appear at her door with every inventively empty threat that had already made part of his repertoire in an attempt to persuade, then _guilt_ , her into eating something. Normally, this routine of his was equal parts amusing and aggravating, but currently, she simply didn't have the energy to keep up. So she yanked herself out of the sanctity of her bed, out of the blissful grasp of sleep, and trudged through the morning minutia to get to Jerry before the nut she called family did, before the cook had anything remotely worrying to report.

Lenalee managed as much, also somehow miraculously feigning enough interest in her breakfast to keep any prying questions at bay, which meant she was free and clear to tuck herself into her favorite seat at the back table, from where she normally derived so much amusement and enjoyment watching the finders and exorcists interact, seeming, for the length of the meals, at least, so ordinary, it was laughable.

No one was really laughing then, though. The atmosphere permeating the mess hall could be described as not much better than somber. The tables were filled, but the attendees were all quiet and subdued, creating a vacuum, an illusion of emptiness, that became starkly filled by the tray of hot food that suddenly dropped down by her elbow, catching the girl completely off guard. She had half a mind to guess that Kanda was trying his clumsy hand at comfort again, as he was known to do when it came to her and no one was watching, which no one really was, bleary eyes looking up to the source of the noise without seeing from all corners of the large room, but the hair that greeted her searching gaze wasn't dark. _Not even close_.

In lieu of midnight, all Lee found was rust, accompanied by nervous laughter, and she wondered how strange it was she didn't notice the gaze that met hers the other night wasn't full. The young woman was immediately curious and itching to ask a million questions, but the new recruit seemed so entirely timid, she couldn't bring herself to embarrass him. Instead, slow but firm, with all the affection of a long-lost sibling, she squeezed his offered hand in both of her own, bouncing in place with the zeal of her handshake. She focused her eyes, dark, and saturated, and almost violet, on his face, but not his deformity, and _smiled_.

"My name's Lenalee. If you need anything at all, just lemme know, okay?"

She didn't let go of his hand until it became absolutely necessary to do so in the hopes of remaining appropriate.

"Welcome home."

* * *

It was only when Lavi felt the squeeze to his offered hand that the boy opened his eye, the false smile cemented in place as he continued to chuckle bashfully. Remain unassuming and unthreatening. Stay off to the sidelines, and don't call attention to yourself. Observe, and notate. That was his job as a Bookman. Those that surrounded him were not his friends, not his comrades, no matter the interactions that took place between them. It was an idea the redhead lived by, and it allowed the young man to master the fine, intricate details of social decorum, able to keep the delicate balance between inviting friendliness, where those conversed with felt comfortable enough to share privileged information, and an aloof mystique, that, in turn, kept those same beings at a safe distance due to an uneasy sense of warning that couldn't be explained. Complacent caution, that's what Lavi liked to call it, and it suited his goals well.

When Bookman Junior opened his eye to greet the unfortunate soul, unfortunate for him, mind, the redhead was expecting to run the course of the standard greeting ritual, a mindless exchange of pleasantries customary for new acquaintances. The game annoyed him, but the boy had the steps memorized, so much so that he could carry out the conversation in his sleep, which wasn't that far from his state of being at the present moment. However, as Lavi initiated step one, which was to make eye contact, everything the male knew was thrown out the window. Just like the day prior, as the redhead's gaze fell upon familiar, violet eyes, which were now right in front of him, upon the smooth, pale skin framed by dark pigtails, he found himself unable to breathe again, his heart jumping around sporadically in the cage of his chest and, instead of continuing with the next scripted line of dialog, the record keeper's jaw fell open, hanging lifelessly as he struggled to find the practiced words he had memorized countless years ago.

He looked like an idiot, which the redhead _was_ , but this time, the display wasn't a façade; it was a genuine reaction.

"My name's Lenalee. If you need anything at all, just lemme know, okay?"

Then, she smiled, a warm glow lighting up her milk-colored cheeks, a captivating radiance that even the well-disciplined Bookman couldn't help but fall victim to.

"Welcome home."

 _... Home?_

Lavi wasn't sure what threw him off more, his intense physical reaction to this girl or her use of the word _home_. To the nomad, home was where one's heart belonged; it wasn't an actual, physical location, but in her simple greeting, in their brief, still one-sided, exchange, the boy could, perhaps, start to see the allure of the concept.

Not used to being thrown off his game, it took the scribe a moment to catch back up and, just when he was going to make his move on this inviting and curiously enticing Lenalee, someone had to step in and ruin the moment.

"That's my spot."

Turning around, the Bookman found a tall, unfriendly male with a murderous, stone cold look chiseled onto his immovable features. It was obvious this man was dangerous and clearly had no sense of humor. Right off the bat, Lavi didn't like him, and that was ignoring the fact that this uninvited guest was ruining his prime opportunity to flirt with a cute girl. Still, a characterization was of no use if one could not maintain the façade in all situations, no matter how aggravating, so Lavi did his best to play along, despite his frustration.

"Hey … you …," the redhead drawled out slowly, doing his best to hide his bitterness, giving as slight an acknowledgement as possible to the unnamed male with a small, angled turn in the exorcist's general direction.

"Don't call me that," the long-haired youth snapped with a snarl, like a vicious dog growling at the end of his taut chain.

"He goes by Kanda," Lenelee offered up hastily.

 _Kanda, huh?_

The redhead smirked to himself, the expression so concentrated, it bled through to the boy's external display. Trained as a Bookman to read between the lines, to find subtle cues and hidden information, Lavi had a pretty good idea of the man's first name due to the stranger's reaction and the girl's introduction, and the scribe was pretty damn sure his new guest didn't like being called by it.

"Sorry," Lavi offered up with a mocking apology, his fake smile big and bright. "I didn't see your name on it. It is Yuu, though, isn't it?"

Kanda's grip became white-knuckled on his food tray, his jaw clenching as he tried to bite back his anger at the insolent fool addressing him.

"Don't call me that."

Wanting to avoid bloodshed, Lenalee took the moment to shift as far to the left as she could along the bench seat at the table, creating just enough space to allow Kanda to slip between her and the Bookman, in her own way presenting a compromise. Kanda, understanding the girl's gesture and with his sole purpose in coming to the mess hall this morning being to offer his own, twisted form of support and comfort to Lenalee, decided to swallow his pride and accept the offering for her sake.

Until that bastard, Lavi, grinned and patted the empty seat in an encouraging, yet belittling, fashion.

Kanda froze mid step, his muscles tensing to the point of granite as he suppressed his urge to slit the redhead's throat. Dropping his tray on the table, the exorcist changed his plans and, instead, headed straight for the exit without so much as a word.

Lenalee, of course, chased after her upset friend, leaving Lavi alone and, now, without the pretty girl to flirt with.

"Oh, come on, Yuu!" the historian called after the pissed off Kanda as he stormed away, the redhead's eye candy close on the samurai's heels. "I didn't mean it. Learn to take a joke, buddy."

"Don't call me that!" echoed loudly about the mess hall as the angered exorcist made his exit.

* * *

She thought it a familiar thing, the warming presence and icy tone just above her shoulder, where Kanda was already losing his temper with the new recruit. Lavi somehow managed to stumble across the one word that was sure to set the samurai on edge in record time, it seemed, and the brunette idly wondered if he was baiting the incensed mess of irritation behind her on purpose. The idea wasn't a smart one. Her friend wasn't exactly known for his anger management skills.

"He goes by Kanda," Lenalee hastened to interject, halting the soon to be argument by scooting her way to the left side of the bench, in a pacifying sort of manner, to offer the two young men a compromise.

To her chagrin, the effort was rendered futile by Lavi petting the seat she vacated, and she _felt_ more than saw Yuu's patience snap into bits and pieces against the linoleum floor, the fragile thing that it was.

 _For the love of —_

Kanda's tray hit the tabletop just as the girl pitched up to her feet, much too familiar with this routine to waste any more time immobile in the hopes that Yuu would cool off and come back. He wouldn't. And he was already out the door when she found her voice to gently call out to him, tongue forming carefully over the syllables of his _surname_ because all creation was in the balance and counting on her not to fumble and call him _anything else_. Of course, he didn't so much as slow at the gentle pleading, and Lenalee really didn't expect him to. She continued on right behind him, calling his name one more time, just a bit louder, as her much shorter strides were slowly forcing her to fall behind. The fact that he still didn't respond didn't surprise her, but it did annoy her.

"Kanda."

He maintained his silence, radiating _murder_ in all directions, compelling everyone passing them by to avoid eye contact and generally pretend that there wasn't an enraged samurai stomping down the hall with a Lenalee trailing behind him, looking, with every step, more and more ready to yank on his hair. She didn't. But it was a near thing, really.

"Kanda."

Silence.

She forced herself to halt, soft eyes turning sharp against the back of his exorcist coat, her booted foot hitting the floor in a petulant stomp she wasn't entirely too proud of.

"Kanda, Yuu! If you do not stop walking away from me _this instant_ , God be my witness, I will _end_ you!"

The threat was mostly an empty one, but Lee didn't think herself above kicking the swordsman in the shins given the right set of circumstances, which this whole affair was starting to border. It seemed that he knew this, for he slowed, then stopped altogether, a wince so obvious in his stature that his shoulders straightened and tensed on autopilot. In response, the crease of her forehead smoothed almost immediately, and a smile found its way back to her full lips, as the young woman lazily trotted up to the frozen Kanda with every intention of making him wait out the length of the hallway that somehow sprung up between them in the samurai's attempts to flee. At his side, she slowed to a near crawl, catching his eyes before continuing onward, as if silently permitting him to start moving as well. The hint was taken, and her pace matched, and, really, there was nothing quite like walking though a throng of people with Yuu because the crowd parted with his mere presence.

What came next was tricky business because Lenalee couldn't scare the poor man by outwardly telling him she was alright and figured out long ago that he only ever sat at her table when he thought she wasn't, so the brunette turned to the neutral topic of work, knowing, before even opening her mouth, that their usual game of charades was about to begin.

"Are you leaving on assignment today?"

An affirmative grunt was her only reply.

She cutely scrunched her nose; he continued glaring forward. Nothing ever changed with this man, and that was a bit comforting.

"Soon?"

Another grunt.

"Then you have to eat before you go."

An annoyed grunt.

"And take warm clothes with. S'been way too cold recently."

A pissed off grunt.

"Kanda."

A grunt of acquiescence.

It was really a miracle that the two of them had managed to understand each other to date. It helped that Lenalee could talk enough for two and Yuu's base vocabulary consisted of six phrases and an infinity of _grunts,_ but the charm of their conversations was, nonetheless, lost on everyone but the girl.

* * *

Kanda had very little patience to begin with, and although he had the most willingness to endure most human stupidities for Lenalee, this unknown and untrustworthy redhead had worn the near emotionless samurai thin, causing his resolve to shatter as he stormed out the mess hall. Anger and annoyance burned bright in the exorcist's mind, causing him not to notice the little tag along until he was halfway through the next hallway.

"Kanda," she called sweetly after the frothing beast, who, of course, ignored her as he continued to part the sea of innocent and terrified Black Order members caught in the crossfire.

"Kanda," Lenalee spoke again, this time, the name commanding a bit more attention for the need of a response, which the hot-headed male blatantly ignored, and she knew he did so on purpose, even if the gesture was nothing personally directed at her.

"Kanda, Yuu! If you do not stop walking away from me _this instant_ , God be my witness, I will _end_ you!"

And as if the hand of God himself reached down to command his exorcist, the dog's feet ceased their marching, an invisible force halting the irritated man from putting one foot in front of the other. Held by unseen chains, Kanda knew he wouldn't be able to make any more forward progress, not until his bonds were released and he was given permission to continue on. So, as if forced to stand for an inquisition, the samurai stood with his head held high and his shoulders pulled back, awaiting the intense line of questioning he knew was forthcoming.

"Are you leaving on assignment today?"

Of course he was. With Kanda's special talents, with there being a shortage of exorcists, with him being a leashed dog for the Black Order, he was always out on assignment, most of his time spent out in the field rather than in his own private room. Not caring for human contact, the samurai wasn't going to complain, although he did have concerns for Lenalee and her wellbeing while so commonly away. A strong woman she was, but still fragile and delicate at her core. As one of the few, if not the only one, he took into consideration, it aggravated Yuu to know he was unable to deflect the pain the Black Order so often caused his comrade while he wasn't around.

"Soon?"

Of course it was soon. In fact, he was already running late, a sacrifice he was willing to make in order to check on the girl before heading out on his journey. Joining her in the mess hall might have wasted an hour of his time, but he would be able to make it up on the road, able to push his body to its limits to compensate for the lost sixty minutes.

"Then you have to eat before you go."

That was his original plan, but that mouthy, one-eyed redhead ruined his intentions, not that Kanda actually enjoyed eating, the action more of a necessity than pleasure, but still, a necessity nonetheless, an activity that could not forever be avoided no matter how hard he tried.

"And take warm clothes with. S'been way too cold recently."

No shit, really? He hated it when she became motherly; although, deep down, the concern warmed his icicle of a heart. Accepting his role as a tool and a weapon, born and raised for one, sole purpose, although the exorcist would never admit it, even to himself, he found joy in her care, so much that he had to force back a sincere smile.

"Kanda."

"He followed us."

* * *

Lavi watched as his two cast members walked off stage, leaving him alone to finish out the act by himself. It wasn't exactly the close to the scene the scribe was expecting, which, to the one who notated things for a living, left his curiosity peaked and craving some form of completion. Like a doomed cat, the redhead attempted to ignore the itch to follow the pair; however, as disciplined as he was, the junior Bookman had no willpower to do what he knew was right instead of what he knew was satisfying and self-gratifying. So, after five minutes of anxious fidgeting, after mindlessly pushing food around his plate while his eye lingered on the adjacent hallway, the newly adorned exorcist gave up resisting, slinking his way over to the exit, doing his best to remain unobserved in the shadows as he went to tail the quarreling love birds.

Much like a skilled ninja, the redhead danced along the outer reaches of the walkway, unobtrusive to his surroundings, a fly on the wall, the silent observer he was trained to be. And unnoticed he was by everyone except that damned Yuu. Despite the Bookman's vigilant care, despite all the precautions he took to remain unseen, there was just no getting around the samurai, even with the distraction of sweet candy dangling in front of him.

Lavi shook his head to himself.

There was no way this guy was human, not with how much Lenalee was fawning over the bastard and him still giving no response. It almost made the redhead angry, jealous the girl's efforts were wasted on someone so undeserving. If she wanted someone to lavish with attention, he'd take it, and appreciate it too.

 _Wait, what?_

Lavi was a bit surprised with himself that, even if just for a split second, he honestly felt those emotions. Now the boy was shaking his head for another reason: to refresh and clear his mind. Having experienced two unusual hiccups, both in the mess hall and just now, the junior Bookman had to replay what happened last night, thinking there was probably something the old geezer tried to warn him about that the young man managed to overlook. Honestly, it wasn't the first time the idiot missed some critical piece of information, and, sadly, it wouldn't be the last either.

"He followed us."

And the jig was up.

 _Damn it._

Still, Lavi knew when he was beat, so the redhead gave a dashing smile and held his hands up as a gesture of good faith, a signal to show the paranoid Kanda that the record keeper had nothing to hide. At least physically anyway.

"Hey now," the youth playfully countered with mock offense. "Those are strong accusations there, Yuu. I can't help it if you just coincidentally happened to be walking in the same direction I chose to meander in. This hallway's big enough for all of us, ain't it, Yuu?"

" _ **Don't call me that**_."

Oh, this guy was too much fun.

* * *

Her forehead was ready to make the intimate acquaintance of the nearest desk the moment she heard Kanda's given name tumble past the redhead's lips; she was actively looking for said desk by the time Lavi repeated the taboo. To the brunette's unending aggravation, however, there wasn't anything remotely horizontal and stiff in sight, which was a shame, because Yuu's voice amplified to dangerous levels in the quickly emptying hallway, and she was left wondering if a hiding spot was what she _should_ have been looking for. It was a moot point, though. There was nowhere to hide, nor was there anything to bang her head against, without taking a short walk off the high platform they were standing on. What was more concerning was that the railing just wasn't tall enough to assure the girl that Kanda wouldn't just throw the new recruit over it in his rage if she didn't intervene, and it was really a long way down to the first floor. A long, _long_ way down.

Which, really, Lavi fully deserved to travel because he was opening his mouth again to, likely, _definitely_ , repeat what he shouldn't for the sake of his health, and Lenalee interjected at the last possible moment with a heel to his foot. The tiny act of violence was only enough to derail the redhead briefly. Unfortunately, it did nothing for lowering the girl's blood pressure, nor did it really do much for the vein throbbing painfully against her temple.

It wasn't as though she was on Yuu's side, though. Really, she wasn't. Or maybe she _was_. But not because he was her friend. It was mostly because he was _Kanda_ that she felt it necessary to protect his frail nerves. He was kind of inept and plenty unaccustomed, a lot angry and a little confused, and, maybe, just a tiny bit slow on the uptake, but that didn't give anyone permission to _purposefully_ peeve him. Lavi should have known better. Because Lavi, not as shy as he appeared at first glance Lavi, had obviously figured out that Yuu was more vulnerable than he'd ever care to admit already.

"The cheeky so-and-so," came muffled under Lee's breath.

She unceremoniously threaded her arm with the redhead's the moment he quit bouncing around on one foot as though she actually applied enough pressure to hurt him, which she didn't, but kind of wished she had, and pulled him a couple of paces away from Kanda. The brunette's movements were almost smooth as she did this, but not quite. Not enough to suggest that the new recruit was going to get out of this interaction unscathed if he persisted the way he was going.

It was almost like flipping a light switch, though, the uplift to her mood when he did nothing to resist her moving him away from Yuu, to whom she waved over her shoulder with an encouraging smile. He had better appreciate her giving him a chance to escape, especially considering the nerve-grating company he was now able to get away from. Thankfully, she didn't find the new recruit half as objectionable as Kanda seemed to. Quite on the contrary, he made for a refreshing sight: a young man still able to smile, or _fake_ smile, so brightly in the exorcist line of duty. No one had seen such friendliness in quite some time, and Lenalee was just a little starved for it.

She let go of her captive audience about ten feet away from Yuu, who, she noted, started moving now that his unhappy mistress, _anger_ , wasn't rooting his feet to the floor. Lee was a bit relieved that he managed not to burst a blood vessel while so doing, and that was a good enough sign for her to turn her full attention to Lavi.

"How about I give you the grand tour, hm?"

She was greeted with a Cheshire grin for her kindness.

"You can show me 'round all you want, babe."

The brunette heard Kanda's measured footsteps slow and pushed Lavi a bit farther away from the swordsman, hoping to start talking before the mischievous imp at her side got the chance to say anything else. As luck had it, the girl stumbled across her own door before the redhead's mind caught up with his mouth, and she was all too thankful to point out _Room 313_ to him as her own in the case he was ever in need of assistance.

Kanda stopped completely.

 _Damn._

She wasn't even sure what she did wrong that time around.

* * *

The idiot of a redhead was having too much fun to realize that his life was actually in danger. This being his first day at a new place, a rare occurrence, Bookman Junior forgot all about his lack of knowledge concerning the background of his new theater troupe and the actors', in some cases, deadly personalities. There was not a doubt in anyone's mind, especially not Kanda's, that the samurai would hurl the annoyance off the balcony to the painful floor resting several stories below, which was why Lenalee decided to step in, literally, right on Lavi's bare foot, and defuse the situation as best she could. The Bookman let out a surprised yelp, too wrapped up in the manipulation of the marionette strings of Yuu's patience to see the uncalled for attack.

"Hey! What the hell d'ya do that for?!" the boy cursed, glaring viciously at his curvy attacker while he bounced around on his still good foot, massaging the red heel mark of his injury in a vain attempt to soothe the pain as he danced about looking like an imbecile.

Lenalee voiced her frustration under the cover of a hushed whisper, which the new recruit clearly heard, his ears honed to catch even the faintest of conversations from across enormous chambers. Lavi was coming to learn just how adorable this female exorcist was when she became angry, how her nose scrunched up and how her eyebrows furrowed together to compose a life threatening gaze that didn't match her daintily petite body structure. Her tone and harsh words implied the girl meant business, but the redheaded wonder had his doubts as to if this delicate flower could actually break him. Not that the idiot got his chance to tempt fate. At least not yet anyway.

The Bookman's forced variety act was soon brought to a close. A sweet scent permeated his senses as a slender arm wrapped around his own, pulling the Order's newest addition off his one good foot and away from the volatile Kanda.

"How about I give you the grand tour, hm?"

 _A tour, huh?_

Just the two of them? A pretty girl offering to show him around? _Alone_? How could the young male say no to _that_?

Lavi grinned at the proposal, an impish mischievousness hidden behind the expression as he began walking away from the marionette he was previously attempting to direct, the boy's attention no longer captivated by the curious puppet. The redhead had a better toy to play with now.

"You can show me 'round all you want, babe," the junior Bookman tossed back in response, purposefully making his words loud enough to hear for the escaping samurai. He was further satisfied in his victory as he heard the irritated man's steps slow. Unable to help himself, getting wrapped up in the twisted game, heedless that he was violating the first rule of being a Bookman, Lavi was about to open his mouth to pour salt in the exorcist's open wound, but the little lady beat him to the punch, taking it upon herself to point out her dorm, complete with room number.

Kanda's footsteps stopped.

Lenalee winced.

Lavi chuckled, accidentally giving away more than he intended.

An awkward silence filled the air, the tension so thick that it could be cut with a knife, which it, in fact, was, the uncomfortable moment brought to an end by the sharp sound of metal being drawn from a sheath.

"If I ever find out you went there, I will kill you."

The Bookman turned to face the threat, his gaze greeted by the razor-sharp edge of Mugen, the tip of the samurai's sword less than an inch away from his nose.

Lavi's confident chuckle turned to one of nervous unease, the boy closing his eye as he held up his hands again, doing his best to mold himself into what would appear like a defensive position to the angered swordsman. Apparently, Bookman Junior had pushed too far, biting off more than he could chew, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence; it was more that Kanda wasn't a common opponent.

"Take it easy there, Yuu," the redhead attempted to defuse, the samurai's first name accidentally slipping past his lips, the gesture already ingrained as an automatic response. "I haven't even done anything yet."

What happened next only took a fraction of a second, but it played out as if it took a lifetime.

A soft, guttural growl saturated the already dense tension, turning the atmosphere into a thick soup, the sound much like the last warning snarl of a vicious dog as it prepared to bite. There was a quick shuffle as Kanda's feet found their position in an attack stance, the samurai drawing back his weapon and taking the hilt in both hands, leveling the blade in order to deliver his strike. As the angered exorcist went to initiate the maneuver, the light glinting off the deadly edge of Mugen as it traveled toward its intended target, Lavi finally realized how serious the situation actually was.

With scant milliseconds in which to formulate a reaction, the Bookman was left with no other choice but to rely on his ingrained combat training in order to avoid the attack. Whatever cover he was trying to keep, whatever mild mannered façade he was attempting to display, was about to be thrown out the window as, he too, subtly shifted his stance to meet his opponent head on, his mind already having planned out his third counter and strike in response to the oncoming assault.

"Lavi!"

"Kanda!"

The two names echoed about the marbled hallway at a deafening volume, the scolding tone so boiling hot that it immediately halted the actions of both adrenaline fueled boys.

The redhead stood in place, exercising enough control to have not moved the slightest, even with the blade of Mugen resting next to his cheek, the weapon having been diverted at the last second. In what seemed like a delayed reaction, the stoic Bookman put on a show of shaking in his boots, seeming to tremble in fear, although his true reaction, the heat of the enraged beast he kept bottled inside, bled through the staged expression of his eyes despite one of them being covered.

Stubborn and prideful, Lavi had to catch himself before he let out a sigh of relief at the Old Panda's timing, although the boy knew he was going to get it once they were alone.

Jumping to employ his cover, the apprentice dashed to cower behind his mentor, having to crouch significantly to become even partially hidden by his short, elderly senior. Giving his best performance of genuine terror, Lavi pointed at the murderous Kanda over Bookman's shoulder, making sure his voice cracked slightly to help in the impact of his delivery.

"He was gunna kill me!"

"And I'm sure you would have deserved it," Bookman snapped calmly, giving a slight, disapproving nod as he spoke, confirming for his junior that a stern beating was for sure coming his way.

* * *

Bookman Junior didn't make it to Komui's office on time, and the fact seemed to tickle the director _pink_ because he gave Bookman the slyest of happiest grins before he could school his expression into one of careful apathy. The effort to do so came way too late, but he tried. And failed. _Miserably_. His amusement was only further rewarded when the old man tsked in disapproval directed more at his apprentice's lack of presence than Komui's conduct. And that was probably a good thing because it was taking all of the director's concentration to remain silent, which left him with no focus to spare on also maintaining an _un_ -maintainable façade of seriousness.

They were in the library, Komui's office of choice, and he was keenly aware of the stacks upon stacks of paperwork tipping over towards his perch on the edge of the desk, papery whispers and promises of hours of work that were going to drive him into the ground if Reever didn't get to him first, but he wasn't listening. Because Lavi was nowhere to be seen, and the clock kept ticking, twenty minutes past the meeting time, and Bookman was _so_ displeased, the sentiment was almost palpable. For a moment, the scientist seriously considered naming himself a sadist. He was deriving much too much amusement from the knowledge that in the not too far off future, _someone_ was going to get punished for being a _teenager_.

"Oh, to be young again," he mused aloud, eyes carefully withdrawn from the scribe's quickly tightening shoulders.

It was painfully clear to Komui's untrained, wandering gaze that Bookman had put extra effort into thinking of his apprentice as nothing short of a grown man and hadn't reaped any results from the exercise; the sigh that hunched his back attested to as much. And it wasn't that the director was done teasing the old man just yet, but he let the matter drop from fear of worsening Lavi's inevitable chastisement.

"How about I give you the grand tour in the meantime, hm?"

Like sister, like brother.

* * *

It turned out, however and unfortunately, that a tour just wasn't meant to diffuse the situation. _For anyone_. Lenalee didn't get Lavi far enough away from Kanda to avert tragedy, and Komui didn't get Bookman far enough away from the three teenagers to save Lavi a beating. But everyone survived in the end, and wasn't that something to be happy about? The director seemed to think so, quietly sidling up to his sister and sliding a happy arm around her shoulders, which pulled her protectively to his side. The brunette didn't protest, though it was obvious by the odd look she shot him that she had half a mind to. She must have been too thankful for the interruption to Kanda's and Lavi's scuffle to punch him for the liberty, so Komui took full advantage, like he was apt to do, puffing up his chest proudly and even placing a balled fist on the hip that wasn't currently pressed into the girl's waist.

Kanda, meanwhile, sneered and turned away before the researcher even opened his mouth, obviously content with the prospect of leaving Lenalee to her brother because that man was an overprotective monster when it came to his little sister.

The _monster_ in question awkwardly laughed at the samurai's turned back, glasses glinting in the ray of light that shouldn't have, by all accounts and logic, been reflecting so blindingly off the lenses. Lenalee knew he was about to do something bad, and it didn't take long for her suspicion to be confirmed.

"Kan-nda!" he called a little too innocently, a little too happily. "Good luck on your assignment, young man! Call when you get the-ere! Call when you're do-one! Don't make me wor-ry!"

And just like that, Lee was looking for a desk again, while the director, having filled his quota of misconduct for the time being, turned back to Lavi and Bookman and, ready to introduce his little sister like the proud _non_ -parent that he was, got himself a sharp elbow in the gut because, apparently, enough was _enough_. His arm was getting a bit too comfortable around the young woman's shoulders, clearly, and her patience, tested from the start of the day, finally gave. She knew her brother to be as brittle around the edges as Kanda, but there came a time in each and every one of their interactions together that this piece of knowledge just couldn't overshadow his _obnoxiousness_.

The girl stepped up toward Bookman, favoring him with the same greeting she gave his apprentice, and was so quickly taken with the stoic manner of the older scribe, she didn't notice the evil glare her brother exchanged with the younger one.

* * *

 **To be continued.**


	3. Of Fittings and Misunderstandings

**Chapter 49  
** _RecordingTheCrash & Livxwire  
_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own; don't sue. Blah, blah, _blah_. You get the gist.

 **Summary:** When evil does evil, the world continues to turn as expected. It's only when sheep start leading their own to the slaughter that it screeches to a complete halt. Faced with just what humans can do, it's hard not to feel betrayed. [Lavi x Lenalee, Kanda x Lenalee]

 **Note:** Lavi getting his weapon? Check! Lavi getting fitted for his uniform coat? Check! Lavi pissing off Lenalee? Double check! Lavi getting his way in the end anyway? Triple check! Kanda may not be coming with the two of them to London, but you needn't worry. Lavi and Lenalee will get themselves into trouble eventually. And by eventually, I mean soon. Thanks so much for your support, guys! We really appreciate it a whole hell of a lot. Please continue keeping us on the straight and narrow. Enjoy.

* * *

 **Of Fittings and Misunderstandings  
**

* * *

As the redhead hid behind his mentor, watching the rest of the scene unfold, like the good Bookman he was supposed to be, Lavi came to the conclusion that he wasn't sure if it was pure brilliance or just plain annoyance that Komui used to diffuse the near deadly situation he had stumbled upon. Either way, it was a pleasure to watch Kanda leave in a snide huff, tail tucked between the samurai's legs as he turned his back on the rest of the party, no longer wanting to participate in the social interaction. The victorious new recruit couldn't help but chuckle to himself, an action that only the old panda noticed, which earned the apprentice another ruthless glare.

Yeah, he was so going to get it later.

With the threat of danger no longer looming, the young scribe felt comfortable to return to his carefree and relaxed self, standing to his full height and taking the opportunity to stretch his long arms over his head with a yawn. With his guard lowered, no longer having to possibly fight for his life, the young Bookman was able to take in his surroundings, which was when the idiot finally noticed the close proximity of Komui and the gorgeous Lenalee.

 _Hey, wait a second!_

Who the fuck was this guy?!

Yes, Lavi knew the lab-coated pervert was the director of the Science Department, but just who was Komui in relation to Lenalee?! What gave this bastard the right to drape his arm about the girl's shoulders, hugging her to his frame, obviously preventing her from going anywhere? It was clear by the exorcist's expression that the annoying man was a little too close for comfort and that she didn't care to be held so tightly in his grasp. Lavi couldn't help but furrow his brow, his counterfeit smile transforming into a scowl without him even realizing. In reaction, the boy's muscles tensed in anger, and if it wasn't for the old scribe standing in front of him, the idiot would have come forward to be of assistance.

So, _yes_ , back to the original question …

Just who the fuck was this guy?!

Aware of how much the sincere feeling of outrage was shining through his apprentice's façade, Bookman elbowed his junior in the gut, a not so subtle reminder to keep emotions and attachments in check. They had a job to do after all, and petty jealousy was in no way helping complete that task. The jolt to his stomach was enough to remind the boy of his duty, the fake smile jumping back to his lips as if it had never left. However, as Lenalee and Bookman began their conversation, turning to walk toward the armory, Lavi wholeheartedly returned the glare Komui was already giving him.

It would take no fewer than three more hours for Bookman to finally take pity on his student and inform the young man of the director's familial relation to Lenalee. But in the meantime, hands shoved deep into pockets as petulantly as possible, Lavi followed after his mentor while the older man spoke with the pretty young lady, making her laugh, giggle and blush. The apprentice could tell the geezer had taken a liking to her, or as much of one as the scribe ever did, by the subtle smile he was giving the child. Despite the old man being a master thespian, the redhead had been around his teacher long enough to pick up subtle cues as to when Grandpa's responses were based in sincerity and when they were a façade. The nasty grump, Lavi had learned over the years, had a soft spot for children, intelligent and warmhearted spirits, and pretty girls.

Coincidentally, Lenalee was all three.

The redhead snorted.

 _Dirty old panda._

It wasn't long before the junior Bookman's entourage took a turn off the main path, finding itself in a large armory, the walls of which were filled with every sort of weapon imaginable. There were swords, axes, maces, darts, daggers, archery equipment, you name it. If it could possibly be used to inflict harm, it was in that room. Lavi's grin stretched from ear to ear as he surveyed the selection. It was any boy's dream come true.

The redhead couldn't help but step forward, trying not to drool as he went to fondle the weaponry, his attention drawn to a nice selection of daggers that sparkled in the light, the glint of the sharpened edges taunting him like the flash of a voluptuous thigh from under a short skirt. He didn't stop himself from sneaking a touch, letting his fingertips dance along a polished hilt, wanting nothing more than to feel how it weighed in his hand.

A loud and stern cough came from behind the distracted youth, a subtle reminder of the role the junior Bookman was supposed to play in their current chapter. The scribes might have been participating this time, but they were not to influence the outcome of the story. They were only there to record from an insider perspective, not fight the battle. Stay off the front lines, the young man was told. Play a supportive and defensive role, that was what the old coot had beaten into the redhead, _literally_ , as they made their way to the Order.

With a disappointed sigh that the boy could not hold back, Lavi stepped away from deliciously enticing dagger set and shuffled his feet over to something more _fitting_ for his part. The redhead took a stroll about the room, looking for something to catch his eye and keep him at a distance, but he couldn't find anything, his eye stealing glances back at the dagger case.

Otherwise, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

A projectile weapon was out of the question. Not only was it not Bookman Junior's style, but handling one wasn't his most skilled trait. A spear was also out of the question. The sheer length was clumsy for the redhead, which made his last training experience an utter disaster, in which he hurt himself more than his sparring partner. A staff was absolutely out of the question too, the young male unable to take the weapon seriously. How was he supposed to fight with an oversized twig? There was no way. Unfortunately, then, as Lavi went to make a second pass around the room, his options were coming up empty.

Bookman knew the dilemma the young scribe was having, leading the short old man to drum his fingers across his folded arms in an impatient and scolding manner.

Lavi realized he was getting on his mentor's nerves, but, honestly, just how was he supposed to pick something after those lovely ladies he caressed earlier? They were beautiful. They were perfect. The brash redhead knew the importance of their roles as Bookmen, but couldn't the old panda make an exception in regard to his weapon choice? Just this once? The youth huffed indignantly. It wasn't fair. He had made his decision, and the enchantresses were right over there, waiting for him.

With an agitated sigh, the young record keeper spun around to face his senior, leaning against the waist-high display case behind him with a disgruntled pout. The redhead didn't say a word, but the geezer knew exactly what the boy was thinking, which was why Bookman asked for a moment alone with his charge. Once it was just the two of them, Lavi went to make his argument.

"There ain't nothin' here, Gramps."

"Open your eyes, and actually look. Stop fixating on those knives."

The apprentice grumbled, reaching behind him and blindly grabbing the first weapon his hand came across, the item feeling small and pathetic in his grasp.

"Oh yeah?" the redhead growled, pulling the joke weapon out in front of him, waggling it before his teacher's gaze, the idiot thinking he was making a point. "How the hell am I supposed to fight with this?"

"I don't know, but you'll find a way," Bookman nodded as he turned his back on his imbecile of a student. "Because that's now your weapon."

Lavi finally looked down at what he held in his hand, a tiny, doll-like hammer, no bigger than six inches in length. The young man's eyes grew wide in shock as he examined the small, fragile weapon closely. The damn thing looked like a glorified toothpick.

"You're kidding, old man," the junior Bookman laughed, a bit of nervous dread lingering within his chuckles, especially when his mentor didn't respond and, instead, kept walking towards the door to signal to the others they were done.

"Wait, Panda! You can't be serious!" Lavi pleaded, taking a few frantic steps towards his cruel teacher, the conversation getting cut short as the evil midget informed Komui and Lenalee that they had made their selections.

Lavi's jaw fell open in shock. The crazy old coot wasn't joking, and, now, he was stuck with a weapon that couldn't even break up a children's tea party.

"Oh, an excellent choice," Komui clapped upon seeing the hammer the redhead held in his hand. "The Iron Hammer is a very unique weapon, no other's like it, and it's very selective in its master. You should feel special. Many have tried to acquire it for themselves but failed miserably at the task."

Bookman Junior blinked and returned his gaze to the toy that barely fit in his hand.

"… This?" his voice cracked with disbelief.

"Mm-hm," Komui nodded.

"… _This_?" the redhead asked again, raising a curious eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, most definitely," the director chirped back happily.

Bookman smiled victoriously.

Lavi furrowed his brow in annoyance, sending a scathing look towards the geezer.

 _Stupid old panda._

To his detriment, Bookman Junior entirely ignored the supervisor's subsequent, excited raving about a uniform fitting.

* * *

The unfortunate reality of war is that tragedy visits more often than anyone wants to be graced with its ugly presence, so it quickly becomes imperative for soldiers to learn how to cope when everything goes to shit. Lenalee would be the first to admit that she hadn't the most accommodating psyche when it came to accepting what she could not fix and moving on to the things that she _could_ , but the strong wills of those around her to bounce back and keep smiling, despite the mess that remained after the unwanted guest finally left, kept her focused and strong. If she wasn't able to remain level-headed for herself, then she'd do it for her family and, especially, her brother. He had quite enough to deal with barring her anger, which flared every time a new coffin, undeserved, as always, arrived at Headquarters. Such negative emotions were also more easily ignored when everyone around seemed not to harbor them, at least outwardly. A mere two days after the funeral rite, the mess hall was once again back to its normal level of loudness. There were conversations echoing off the walls, accented by the clangs of eating utensils, and the lively atmosphere somehow made it less difficult to breathe.

One foot in front of the other, Lee collected her dinner from a pumped up Jerry, who had recently tried out a new recipe he wanted to collect reactions for from the few exorcists he managed to coax into giving his latest concoction a go, and settled once again into her favorite seat in the back of the cafeteria. Her table, however, wasn't empty this time around. In fact, it could have been categorized as almost full with excited scientists, who each spared a moment to warmly greet her before disappearing back into a huddle of white lab coats and pages upon pages of drawings.

Thoughtfully taking a bite of her meal, the brunette blinked owlishly, head cocked curiously to the side, as though the gesture would help her understand why it was that the men of the Science Department seemed to be playing _designer_ , for the diagrams passed around between them were decidedly made in the shape of two coats, two uniform coats, the girl would wager. And it didn't occur to her until a tray of food was dropped off to her left that the Black Order had two new recruits to be fitted.

 _That's right._

Mercifully, the most recent cloud was accompanied by a silver lining, a courtesy that fate didn't often extend, which was perhaps why Bookman and his apprentice didn't so readily spring to Lenalee's mind. They were there now that she thought of them, however, and the almost familiar acid-green gaze that met her own questioning one made it difficult to forget them again.

Unlike the previous day, Lavi's entrance didn't attract all that much attention. His rough handling of his plate and silverware didn't echo with half as much force in a busy room as it had in a quiet one, so for the moment, if only for that moment, the redhead was all hers. Nonetheless, she knew that soon enough, his presence would send a ripple effect through the scientists swarming their notes at the table, but that wouldn't happen until she slid over just _so_ to create room for the scribe to sit down. Lee dutifully did so regardless, feeling only an ounce of guilt at throwing the young man so heartlessly to the proverbial wolves.

Johnny bounced up to him immediately, eyes sparkling enough for Lavi to notice and even comment on. The thick layer of apprehension coating the record keeper's words tempted Lenalee to say something while amusedly watching the excited scientist wield his measuring tape like a weapon.

"Everyone just wants to protect Lavi, who has become our comrade."

And with that comforting statement, the girl placed a no less soothing hand briefly on the redhead's shoulder.

* * *

Lavi hadn't been at the Order very long, but there was one thing that became abundantly clear during his short stay: Headquarters was a tight knit group. Everyone was involved in everyone's business, and everyone knew what was going on with everything. There was no stone unturned, not an ounce of privacy. The whole thing was very unnerving to the apprentice Bookman. People were supposed to stay an arm length away and only come close, especially _that_ close, when invited. As if to spite him, however, there were no boundaries with this group, making the whole social interaction thing rather uncomfortable.

Was this maybe the challenge the old panda was talking about?

Then again, as Lavi picked up this tray of food, he found the one bystander he wouldn't have minded getting more intimately acquainted with, who, coincidentally, just took a seat in a nicely tucked away corner. The table looked to be a little crowded, but the science nerds were too distracted to get in the redhead's way, so the suave bastard went to attempt to make his move.

Dropping his plate of food next to Lenalee, the record keeper gave a shy but dashing smile. Of course, the girl smiled back, offering him a seat at her side, which he gladly took. There was a bit of awkward silence that followed, and the young Bookman pushed his food around on his plate, waiting for the brunette to say something to him, which, as his usual lack of luck would have it, she didn't.

Weren't girls supposed to talk, talk, and never shut up? That's what the redhead thought, at least, but maybe you needed to get them started first? The junior Bookman wasn't really up on current social standards, especially not when it came to more than general acquaintance level interactions. Nonetheless, the seemingly bashful youth went to open his mouth to say something, though he didn't get very far.

"It's Lavi, right?!" Johnny leaned over and asked in an over exuberant fashion.

The redhead had to stop and blink with his good eye, slowly turning to the little mouse-haired dork that was ruining what moves the historian thought he had.

"… Yeah," the young man drawled, his tone showing his annoyance more than he intended it to.

"What are your measurements?" the scientist chirped back in question, undeterred, his words a bit too hungry, drool practically dripping from his mouth as he dangerously pulled out a measuring tape.

Lavi laughed nervously, trying to contain his rage at the annoying pipsqueak. "Why ya wanna know that?"

"I'm telling you," Tup chimed in, peering over his glasses-toting comrade. "It should be big and roomy to help accommodate his fighting style."

"But it shouldn't be too big," Mark piped up. "Too baggy is just as detrimental as too tight."

Lavi blinked again, looking not only confused and alarmed, but a bit scared as well. Just what in the hell were these idiots talking about?

"Everyone just wants to protect Lavi, who has become our comrade."

At that moment, the jumpy redhead felt a light caress at his shoulder, his normal, paranoid reactions causing him to violently flinch under the touch. Immediately, the Bookman turned, his bitter expression fading into a fake, soft smile accompanied by a nervous ruffle to his rust-colored spikes.

"A comrade, huh? I guess I should feel special," the scribe grinned, his mind begging to differ on the false sentiment he just conveyed. These guys were way too feely for his liking. Lavi pushed that thought aside however, he could deal with it, for the moment anyway, as his attention was now turned back to the object of his desire and her soothing voice. Although, the tape measure being pulled across his shoulders and down the length of his arm was certainly killing whatever mood he had managed to muster.

And here Komui led the redhead to believe that training was going to be the hardest part of his initiation. No such luck, of course, though, perhaps, that conclusion entered Lavi's head a bit too soon.

* * *

Sparring was something that Lenalee enjoyed doing quite a bit. Despite having been forced into combat early on in life, and against her will, fighting wasn't exactly an odious task to her. It was a relief sometimes, it was an escape others, and it was something that she did for the sake of her red pins on an old world map _always_. Sparring was just a variation of fighting. It was an adrenaline release without the danger, and it helped train new recruits for the challenges that they'd have to face out in the field. So whenever her brother asked, she was happy to oblige, because there was something insanely inviting about personally upping the chances of survival for the Black Order members that the brunette simply could not pass up. She was not surprised the next time Komui requested her presence at the sparring hall either because the redheaded boy she made the acquaintance of recently had not been tethered to their system in the way that everyone else had. No one fully knew his strengths or weaknesses yet, and without that knowledge, assigning him to matching missions became nigh impossible. Of course, there was no way to hide from herself that she didn't mind the thought of giving him a nice kick to the shins for his behavior towards Kanda either, but the wish was a secondary one. Mostly, Lee simply wanted to assure that he'd come back alive from his first assignment.

So she went without protest and shook his hand before the match started, like the good sport that she was, because her spirits were high and _oh_?

They stepped apart, and he didn't appear at all interested in assuming any sort of fighting stance that would contribute to defense or offense. So it took a moment to figure out why he was nothing but sloping angles and languid movements, shoulders full hunched, lips split in a grin, hands shoved deep into pockets, but something eventually clicked and _**oh**_.

Her disposition soured entirely within the span of a heartbeat because that _son of a someone she would not condescend to name_ thought he could take her on with his _hands_ in his _pockets_.

She was squeaking in protest before her feet hit the width of her shoulders, bringing her low and _dangerous_ , and he has the _audacity_ to stare at her legs and move not a muscle. So Lenalee decided right then and there that he deserved all that was coming to him, and what was coming to him was a bit more aggressive than what she could normally pull off towards her family members because she was _incensed_ , and he still had his _hands_ in his _pockets_.

Needless to say, pitching up to Lavi and around him was a cinch because he was not really watching _her_ , only her _legs_ , and there was nothing he could really do with his back turned and completely unguarded when the flat of her foot connected with his butt, accompanied by a resounding, marked _snap_ that sent him stumbling forward. The brunette wasn't surprised to watch her mark regain his footing all too quickly and whirl to face her, but she was far from done with him yet.

"I suggest you defend," Lee chirped, deceptively lightly, before she was mere centimeters in front of him, a knee flying towards his abdomen.

* * *

Lavi already knew how to fight, but the old panda insisted that, even though they were going to be exorcists, the redhead pretend that he didn't. An expert in hand-to-hand, a demon with a dagger, the junior Bookman had to forget all of his training, put it on the back burner, and assume a supportive role during combat. Sit back and observe, let the cast dictate the story, and let the show play out around you. Bookman had beat it into his apprentice that he was not to become an active member, either within the Order or in the war they were there to transpose. The mentor knew his student could fight, that the boy enjoyed the sport on several levels, but the challenge was to have the restraint not to. Being the brash and arrogant youth that he was, however, the redhead heard what the geezer was saying but did not fully comprehend the lesson that Bookman was trying to teach him. At least not at that moment.

Standing at the edge of the sparing matt, across the way from Lenalee, the young man, more than confident in his skills, rolled his eyes at the exercise, knowing ahead of time that he could take the little lady. Saucy as the girl may have been, she was still petite and frail, hardly any muscle on her despite those toned thighs and curvy hips. Scoffing, Lavi turned his nose up, his eyes secretly gawking at those long, slender legs as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, convinced the whole endeavor was nothing more than a waste of his time, nothing more than a joke.

Oh how wrong he was.

The exorcist moved fast, faster than he had anticipated, the forceful and insulting kick to his butt causing the cocky redhead to stumble forward before catching his footing and turning back towards the slinky mongoose to give her an annoyed glare.

"I suggest you defend."

Lavi smirked, able to see Lenalee's next move, hunching slightly to block the knee to his abdomen with the flat of his forearm as his smirk slowly stretched into a conceited grin. To that, a loud cough came from the sidelines, a silent warning from the boy's mentor to remember their discussion leading up to the match, a reminder that this was an exercise in restraint, not in victory.

Bookman Junior groaned and rolled his eye. Reflexes clouded by his overwhelming self-confidence, the scribe missed Lee's next move; the exorcist dropped to one knee and swept Lavi's legs out from under him, causing the swollen-headed idiot to fall flat on his back, his pride wounded more than his physical form.

Ok, maybe he needed to start paying better attention.

* * *

She was surprised when he heeded her advice and defended just in the nick of time, a much too confident smirk uplifting a corner of his mouth into an expression that Lenalee found ridiculously unpleasant. Not because it wasn't handsome, _quite on the contrary_ , but because it was a _representation_ of him putting his hands back in his pockets, and, _really_ , why couldn't he just take her seriously? Whatever amount of restraint the brunette has fluttered away with a jarring snap of its metaphorical wings, not lingering about long enough to keep her from dropping into a sweep and taking Lavi's feet out from under him in retaliation. The result didn't seem punishing enough, though, and before the young man had a chance to bounce back up, she managed to procure his headband as an afterthought.

Needless to say, Lee was pleased with herself for so successfully being a bother, but once she caught sight of the rust-colored mess of strands and spikes that she made fall to frame her opponent's face, the type of pleased that she was shifted into unknown, but _warm_ , territory.

He rushed her much too quickly for the exorcist's liking, and she was forced to go on the defensive, even if she didn't have much of a chance to _defend_ in the classical sense of the term; all the young woman could do was jump back, and back, and _back_ , avoiding every strike sent in her direction. He was much stronger than she was, and he was fast, _so_ fast, but not fast enough, apparently, for after securing his bandana around her wrist like a bracelet, Lenalee was able to duck under a punch and land one of her own against his stomach, a messy uppercut that clearly did absolutely no damage. The only thing the contact managed to accomplish was pause the fight while the brunette's fist opened and turned, pressing, palm-flat, into the granite of muscle under it.

"Holy …"

The single word that escaped her full lips might not have been particularly successful in articulating the thoughts crashing against the walls of her skull, but the sentiment got across regardless because Lavi grinned, and her mouth went dry in response.

It was only by some sort of miracle that Lee manages to make it out of her opponent's range of attacks in time not to earn herself an open-hand chop to the ribs for all the stalling she was doing.

* * *

Lavi landed hard on his butt, the air partly being knocked from his lungs due to the force of the impact. It was a lucky shot! At least, that's what the redhead told himself while nursing his wounded pride. A lucky shot aided by Bookman's distraction. A fluke, really. That was all it was, and as soon as the scribe stood up and recollected his thoughts, he'd politely go put the little lady in her place, but then, she stole his headband.

His fucking headband!

No longer having any support, the boy's hair fell into his eyes, hanging loose and shaggy against his head, the long strands getting in the way. With the pressure removed from his forehead, Lavi was aware of his handicap, his deformity feeling as if it was more exposed than it usually was, despite it actually being the opposite. A wave of vulnerability flooded the Bookman's senses, which, in turn, caused his hidden anger to flare. A snarl was on the redhead's lips as he went to stand, his body posture as much of a warning to his mentor as it was to his opponent.

"Lavi," the old coot warned, his voice calm to the others, but to his apprentice, the threat-filled warning was clear. It was a passive check between the two scholars, a reminder to the brash youth to remember the overall goal of their mission and not ruin the entire operation over a little sparring match. An idiot he might have been, but the redhead was still better than that.

The student growled in annoyance and waved the stupid panda off as he hunkered down, gathering his footing to lunge at Lenalee.

 _Fine_.

If he couldn't let loose, if he couldn't fully fight back, then the junior Bookman would focus on something other than fighting, like mangling that pretty little outfit of hers. Ruining her clothes would certainly put the obnoxious brat in her place. Women liked their clothes, right?

It seemed like a logical connection at the time, while the boy's head was filled with anger and adrenaline, but it really wasn't.

Rushing his target, Lavi swung and missed, grabbing nothing but air.

 _What the hell?_

So the record keeper moved faster, changing his direction of attack at the last minute only to have the girl slip from his grasp yet again.

 _No, seriously …_

The scribe put a little zig in his zag, getting close enough to where Lenalee felt the need to attack, cutely delivering an uppercut to his stomach, which didn't even so much as tickle. Realizing her strike had no effect on her opponent, the exorcist placed the palm of her hand on the Bookman's abs, confirming that, despite being a supposed _nerd historian_ , the jerk was as solid as a rock, the girl easily able to feel the tense muscles under his shirt. The gesture was a bit of a surprise, but not as much as the hushed, private whisper Lenalee shared with herself.

Lavi stopped his advance, standing smug and sure as he placed a cocky fist on his hip, giving the blushing girl a smile.

"Ya like what ya see, Lee?"

Of course, the little lady became flustered, giving the bastard the opportunity he needed to make his attack. Unfortunately, the Bookman over-compensated for her reaction, thinking the exorcist wouldn't be as distracted as she actually became. Landing his strike, taking a firm hold of the front of Lenalee's shirt, the redhead pulled with all his might, the material ripping free as he brought it high above his head, holding it to the heavens as his prize of victory.

"Oh yeah!" the overzealous, and completely oblivious, idiot proclaimed.

Of course, it took a moment for Lavi to realize what he had done, which was only prompted by the bashful squeak that came from behind him. Slowly turning his head, the young male witnessed a beautiful sight as an embarrassed and blushing Lenalee went to cover her chest, her ripped jacket and bra barely keeping her decent.

Lavi blushed horribly, although his spike in blood flow wasn't due to embarrassment.

"Uh …," the Bookman stumbled, trying to find the right words to explain. "This isn't what it looks like," he chuckled nervously, offering the shredded cloth, still held tight in his fist, back to its original owner.

* * *

It didn't seem as though the director was paying any attention because just about everything caught his eye more than the sparring match that he, himself, insisted upon, and Bookman was quickly trying to figure out if the man was truly daft or a brilliant actor while keeping his idiot apprentice in line. The boy was being more so a handful than usual, which the old scribe wasn't happy about because it was obvious that all of his warnings had fallen by the wayside, upon deaf ears, at this point. He was only just a bit hopeful that the redhead's oscillation from hot to cold was due to an ongoing search for equilibrium that the young man hadn't quite located of yet. This sort of blind faith in a brat who didn't listen worth a damn was somewhat bittersweet to the old man, but he soldiered through the realization with a stoicism that Lavi should have been able to call his own by now. Needless to say, as Bookman watched the boy tease the ever courteous Lenalee into an uncomfortable disorientation, the lazy bum wasn't any closer to learning his lesson than he was five years ago.

"He's very skilled in close quarter combat," cut through the old scribe's thoughts. "It's strange that he picked a long-range weapon."

The lilt to Komui's words was _almost_ knowing, but the truth clearly evaded him, even if only marginally.

"We all have our roles to play in this war, director," the aged man intoned in response. "He picked the weapon most fitting of his."

Surely, of all people, the scientist would know a thing or two about acting. He had perfected the art, apparently, and Bookman briefly considered if that was for the benefit of his sister and, perhaps, the rest of the Black Order members who relied on him to remain stronger than he was. At the very least, the mystery toeing its way around the perimeter of the scribe's thoughts was now solved. Komui Lee was no airhead, despite all his best efforts to appear as one, and the fact was echoed in Lenalee's upbringing, a brag-worthy product of the director's work, no doubt.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Bookman's own charge wasn't quite as willing to bring him the sort of pride and joy that goes hand in hand with parenting success. The idiot got carried away, _again_ , and ripped open the front flap on the girl's uniform with a triumphant crow that _surely_ didn't actually illustrated his thoughts at the moment because the old scribe did _not_ raise that ridiculous kid to be _this_ much of a _pervert_! At least his brat of an apprentice had the good grace to blush, though he could have done without trying to hand the ripped cloth back to the young woman so clearly glaring _murder_ at him. Bookman didn't even think about stopping her from mauling the redheaded moron, which she happily did, knocking him right out with a roundhouse to the side of his head.

She didn't forget to throw the boy's headband at his crumpled form before storming away either, followed closely behind by a stuttering Komui, who looked a bit torn between strangling something, preferably Lavi, and throwing all of his clothes over the shoulders of his sister so that no one caught even a glimpse of what the young scribe managed to expose. For his own part, Bookman found himself heavily sighing while toying with the idea of bringing his apprentice back to the land of the living. In the end, though, all he did was drag the idiot off by the ankle, not minding the bouncing of the brat's head over each crack and bump in the floor.

The next conversation with the supervisor that came about in due course of business was going to be interesting, indeed.

* * *

Komui clearly didn't like the suggested assignment configuration because he was fighting all logic, and that's a bit strange for a scientist, but it wasn't as though Bookman could truly blame him. After Lavi's grand performance of not a week prior, during which time, Lenalee rightly hadn't spoken a word to the suddenly morose idiot, the director had needlessly gotten into the business of isolating the redhead from his sister, though she'd been doing a fine job of ignoring the brat all on her own, so sending her away with the young man, _alone_ , wasn't, obviously, what the scientist wanted, but the scribe had to insist. After all, there was no one better available to accompany her into the thick of London's Limehouse District than Lavi. He may have been a lot of things, but he wasn't naïve, while she, most certainly, _was_. Circumstances allowing, Bookman would have suggested that she not go at all, but the sharp drop in the numbers of akuma forming around the criminal end of town did need investigating, and there was no one off assignment at the moment but Lenalee and his idiot apprentice.

Which brought him back to the point of Komui refusing to see reason.

"I am not sending my precious Lenalee away with that — that _beast_!" he sputtered indignantly, glaring over the rim of his glasses at the completely unaffected Lavi. Bookman thought there was an edge of shark-sharp fang digging into the man's bottom lip, but he paid it no mind.

"I assure you, director, that Lavi will be on his best behavior and a perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the assignment."

The moron at his side snorted, leaving the old scribe no choice by to give him a good whack to the back of the head. Bookman cleared his throat as though no interruption took place.

"As I was saying, I assure you, director, that Lavi will be on his best behavior and a perfect gentleman for the _entire duration of the assignment_."

It didn't take long after that promise to sway Komui into some semblance of understanding. It helped, of course, that most Black Order members were only versed in dealing with akuma, which recommended the redhead for an assignment where unsavory humans might be involved. The location where he and Lenalee would be going was truly unfortunate, but finders had, time and again, pinpointed it as all but seemingly abandoned by akuma, though it was normally prone to infestation. More than anything, what the scientist wanted to derive from the mission was information. The displayed behavior was truly strange, especially because no reports have come in of late that outlined any sort of unexplained phenomena in the area. This suggested, of course, that Innocence wasn't actually involved, but, then, what was there to explain the shift in strategy? Of course, any shift in strategy from the opposing side, even a mostly explained one, wasn't good news.

* * *

It was unclear whether Komui so arranged it, or Lenalee so requested, but the brunette was briefed on these details in a separate meeting, so she escaped Lavi's company for another twenty-four hours. Unfortunately for her, and it _was_ unfortunate, for she still hadn't forgiven the redhead, there was no escaping their shared train compartment, nor the entirety of the assignment. Lee wasn't in the business of ducking out of missions, and she wasn't about to get into it, annoying idiot of a new recruit by her side or not. Besides, as much as she wanted to remain incensed with the boy, her softer sensibilities were getting in the way. It was definitely easier to think him utterly ridiculous when he was nowhere in sight; the conviction became much harder to uphold when he was slumping into his seat like a kicked puppy right in front of her. It was simply not in the brunette's nature to ignore the pitiful glances he shot in her direction, smartly following her example and remaining otherwise wordless for the entire start of the train ride.

So passed an hour in something akin to companionable silence, while Lenalee read over the assignment brief a few times, marveling at the fact that the redhead had enough self-restraint to continue pretending he was mute, and Lavi gave her pleading, little looks he thought she didn't notice.

By hour two, the mission details were no longer holding her attention, and the Bookman had taken to outwardly staring at the back of the folder she held up, over her face, in the hopes of blocking him out and remaining mad. The effort was really futile.

She dropped the reading material into her lap and finally met his gaze.

"D'you wanna get cotton candy in the dining car with me?"

* * *

It had been about a week since his little incident with Lenalee, and although the redhead was used to being a misunderstood idiot, it never bothered him so much until now. The past seven days had been a test of endurance and a trial of patience, definitely a new experience. Prepared for the cold shoulder, for the girl to angrily ignore him, Lavi thought nothing of the week to come. The young male had pissed off many a cute girl before coming to the Black Order, so he was well enough acquainted with the silent treatment. Being raised and trained as a Bookman, the youth had no need for friends or companions, and one of the greatest benefits of having no attachments was not caring one bit when people stopped talking. In the past, Lavi just grinned at his opponents' stupidity, knowing that their efforts were wasted and that, without even trying, he had won. Without so much as a wave over his shoulder, the boy would move on to the next story, starting the next chapter, and not even offer a glance back. Granted, it was a bit early in this current chapter's dialog, but the junior Bookman knew the results would end up the same.

Or so the idiot thought.

The first time walking past the snooty and bitter Lenalee, Lavi flashed his playful and dashing smile, but as the girl huffed and turned her nose up at the Bookman, the usual upset female response, a strange sensation trickled down his spine. The odd feeling made the redhead shiver, made him stop in his tracks and turn to look over his shoulder as Lee continued on her merry way, her dangling pigtails swaying in time with the angry swish of her hips. The boy was confused and stood there for a moment, just watching her walk away, having more on his mind than just admiring the view. Unnerved, the Bookman carried on to his destination, unable to shake that odd, uncomfortable feeling for several hours, but eventually forgetting about the experience.

The next time Lavi saw Lenalee, something made him actually walk up to her, extending a hand, giving a smile, and offering an inviting conversation, but she moved right past him, not even sparing her fellow exorcist a sideways glance. Not sure what happened, _again_ , the historian was left standing confused in the hallway, cocking his head to the side as he ruffled his spiky, red strands.

Just what in the hell was that for?

Again, the experience left a bad taste in the Bookman's mouth, something he was not used to, and something he was learning that he didn't like.

On the third encounter, Lavi decided to corner the poor girl, blocking the exorcist's path and forcing her to interact with him. The idiot's goal was accomplished; however, not in the way he was expecting, nor anticipating. Instead of talking to him, the headstrong young woman kicked the moron square in the shin, hard enough to make it instantly bruise and throb, causing the redheaded bastard to jump out of the way in pain, allowing his prey to escape.

Now the Bookman was pissed, which gave him more leverage to help himself push past the event and move on, though he still found Lee and the whole ordeal at the forefront of his mind. And just when the young scribe thought he was beginning to make progress, assured that he was starting to win the battle, the redhead was informed he would be going on a mission with the object of his slowly developing obsession.

A mission alone with her.

Just the two of them.

The young male grinned and snorted at the idea, knowing victory would soon be his, which, of course, rewarded him with a hard smack on the back of the head.

 _Stupid old panda._

Now, though, sitting in the small, cozy compartment of the train, any confidence Lavi had before the start of the mission was quickly smothered and extinguished by the fiery aura that radiated from the female exorcist. Any self respecting male knew better than to make an approach, and although the redhead might have proved himself to be dumb on occasion, he did have a strong sense of self-preservation, so the junior Bookman sat curled up in the far corner, avoiding the vicious girl as best he could. Boredom quickly won, however, and the timid boy slowly began to acquire his usual smug sense of self-esteem, which allowed him to steal glances at the foul temptress. Of course, Lenalee ignored the pompous child, retaliating by moving her reading material a little higher, using the back cover to block the boy from her view, if only slightly.

As the next hour passed, Lavi's quick little glances turned to a full blown stare, while the exorcist's mission brief came to be held fully in front of her. The girl did her best to ignore the Bookman, but one can only put up with the awkward sense of being watched for so long. The brunette's resolve broke first, and she lowered her folder to find the, once again, overly cocky redhead positioned just on the other side of the contained words, almost nose-to-nose with her. It took all of Lenalee's self-control not to jump at the proximity of her forced companion.

"D'you wanna get cotton candy in the dining car with me?"

Lavi gave the young woman a cat-like smile, his figurative tail swishing happily, the boy, after all his efforts, finally becoming victorious, his due diligence paying off.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Then, before she could change her mind, the redhead was on his feet, his hand taking a firm hold of the female's wrist and pulling her towards the direction of the dining car. There was a sense of haste in his steps, but it was unclear to the supposedly unfeeling Bookman if his rapidly beating heart reflected a desire to escape the heavy atmosphere of the cramped compartment, or if he was afraid and running from something else. Whatever it was, the redhead pushed it out of mind, keeping the troubling idea out of sight.

* * *

 **To be continued.  
**


End file.
